Page 55 of Roses & Ruin

I nudge open the door, wondering if Delia’s inside. My field of vision is suddenly filled with long, silvery hair and huge espresso eyes.

“Well, well, well!” Delia’s so excited, she’s teleporting around me as I walk into the room, rustling my messy hair with the soft puffs of her vampiric whooshes. “You guys kiss and make up? Fuck and make up?”

“Oh my god, go easy on me.” I laugh, rubbing my eyes shyly. “This is my first time ever having, like, a…” Boyfriend? Vampfriend? Soulfriend?

Soulmate?

I shake my head. “We just kissed. Like, it was a lot, we kissed a lot, and we were pressed against each other and stuff…” I sigh dreamily and flop onto my bed, accidentally dropping my bag to the floor, not even caring that the contents spill. I try to think of how to explain the rightness of finally being with Hayden. “It was like…it felt like something inside me finally slid into place.”

“So, like second base, then?” Delia says dryly, folding her arms. I shoot her a withering look, and she huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “Sorry. I’m kidding. I get it. All you did last night was kiss.”

“But it felt like so much more.”

Something flickers across Delia’s face, and her smile falls into something smaller, more internal.

“Good,” she says. She glances down at where my phone is spilled on the floor, and she winces. “You, uh…you let Picasso know about Hayden yet?”

Shit. I totally forgot about Julian. “No,” I groan, clapping my hands over my face. “I’m literally the worst person on the planet.”

Delia chuckles, cleaning the spilled mess of my bag. “If only that were true.”

“I got so caught up with Hayden…God. Julian was so sweet to me. We kissed and…He doesn’t deserve this. I have to go break it off with him. Like, right now.” I collapse back onto the mattress, the guilt and dread making me curl in on my stomach. “I can’t imagine a more awkward conversation. I’ve just, like, not replied at all. I feel so terrible.” Delia sighs, setting my repacked bag on the mattress beside me and holding out her hand. I take it, and she pulls me to my feet.

“It’s gonna blow,” she says sympathetically. “But it’s a kindness. Go put him out of his misery.”

—

Julian’s office door is closed, and I don’t see any light peeking from beneath the crack under the door. I’m about to just call him when I hear a loud, wet cough from inside, punctuated by a few sniffs.

Great. I have to do this to him while he’s sick? I shake my hands and take a breath. Nothing is going to make this any less awful and uncomfortable. Literally the longer I stand here, the worse my stomach hurts, so I force myself to give the door three short raps.

“Enter.” The voice is rough and curt. Is that really Julian? I ease open the door and peek inside.

The office is small and cluttered, barely big enough for the two desks pushed up against the opposing walls inside. Julian’s sitting at one of the desks, hunched over a stack of papers, his forehead propped in his palm. His eyes are glassy and vacant, and it doesn’t seem like he’s actually reading.

Julian’s got a tiny desk lamp on, but the shades are drawn on the single, small window. He doesn’t look up when I step inside or when I clear my throat. I close my eyes, wishing desperately that I could just leave and Julian could forget everything that ever happened between us.

But of course, no such luck.

“Hi, Julian.” I plaster on the kindest-feeling smile I can muster. Julian’s eyes snap to me, and I almost recoil at the sight of him. His gaze is dull and bloodshot, and the dark purple circles beneath his eyes look like bruises. His skin reminds me of the clammy, pale underbelly of a cave-dwelling amphibian. Jesus. He looks awful. I clear my throat. Julian just keeps staring at me, unsmiling. I twist my fingers together, currently feeling kind of sweaty and clammy myself. “Um…are you feeling alright?”

“You’d know if you’d answered my texts, wouldn’t you?” he snaps. I recoil, and he deflates, sighing and leaning back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, Rose.” His voice is softer, a little more like the Julian I know. “Truth is, I’ve not felt this rubbish in a long time. Went out with some art friends last night. Word to the wise: Do not mix platters of raw oysters and Jägermeister.” He turns an unpleasant shade of green, and for a moment I worry he’s about to be sick. But he sucks in a few breaths, and the nauseous moment seems to pass. “God. Can’t even cancel classes because midterm reviews are coming up and I desperately want Professor Brown to take me on as his research assistant. He only picks two every couple years, so…”

Gingerly, I perch at the edge of the wooden seat in front of his desk. Julian grabs a bottle of water, takes a few small sips, and musters a wan smile for me.

“At least you’re here,” he says. “Definitely could use that face of yours to cheer me up today.” My guilt must show, because any hint of a smile vanishes from Julian’s face immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he says. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, trying and failing to meet his eyes. I look down at my lap.

“I shouldn’t have ignored you. I should have texted you back. But the reason I didn’t was because I have feelings for someone else. I didn’t think he liked me back, and that’s why I went on a date with you, and don’t get me wrong, I had a lovely time, any girl would be lucky—”

“Save it.” Julian’s voice is cold and deadly quiet. I snap my mouth shut and peer up at him, hating how meek I’m feeling. His face is stony, absent of any hint of his typical charm or levity. “I don’t need a pity speech from you.” He scoffs, eyeing me with a disdain he’s never displayed before. I keep my chin up, hoping he can’t see how his words meet their mark.

He’s just very sick and hurt, I think.

“I really am sorry,” I say stiffly.

“Sure,” he says, as if already bored. “That’s fine, Rose. Have fun with your new whatever.” Julian pushes himself up. He gives me one last look, a leering glint in his gaze. “Hope you show them as much of a good time as you showed me.”